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A Political Romance 



c. 



J 



A Political Romance 

BY 
LAURENCE STERNE 

[ 1759] 

An Exadl Reprint of the First Edition 
With an Introduction by 
Wilbur L. Cross ^ 

Author of** The Life and Times of Laurence Sterne " 




BOSTON 

The Club of Odd Volumes 

1914 

Co bf ■'J 






Copyright^ 1914? h 

The Club of Odd Volumes 

of Boston, 



JAN I4!9I5 



]tr ts vf IB 2tr Its vf to v^ "V ^sf ~i9 if "V vf in vf its itr is 29 



INTRODUCTION 



THE first edition of j^ Political Romance 
(1759), reprinted here for the first time, 
is a rare pamphlet from the pen of Laurence 
Sterne. Indeed, it was supposed until recently 
that this specimen of Sterne's humor, antedat- 
ing fristram Shandy, existed in no other form 
than the one given it the year after Sterne's 
death in an edition brought out by a London 
bookseller named Murdoch, with the assist- 
ance perhaps of John Hall-Stevenson, the au- 
thor's intimate friend. The title-page of that 
edition runs: — 

"A Political Romance, AddrefTed to 



Efq. of York. London Printed and 

fold by J. Murdoch, book feller, oppofite 
the New Exchange Coffe-houfe in the 
Strand. MDCCLXIX." 

Itis a duodecimo volume, having an"Adver- 
tifement" (pp. iv-ix) and a list of the characters 
in the allegory with their real names opposite 
(p. x). The Romance itself covers forty-seven 
pages. In the ''Advertifement" the editor or 
bookseller says: "This little piece was written 
by Mr. Si erne in the year 1759, ^^^ ^^^ private 



[ " ] 



reafons was then fupprefled. The recovery of 
this fatirical performance from oblivion, as 
worthy of fo mafterly a pen, will, it is hoped, be 
a fufficient excufe, with all lovers of literary 
merit, for thus bringing it to public view." 

Murdoch's edition, several times reprinted 
by other booksellers, was afterwards incorpor- 
ated in the humorist's collected works of 1 7 80, 
with a new title: The History of a Good Warm 
Watch-Coat , . . A Political Romance. All subse- 
quent editors have taken the text as they found 
it here, and have interpreted Murdoch's remark 
that the pamphlet was suppressed to mean that 
it was not published during the author's life- 
time. It was laid by, even the biographers have 
declared, in Sterne's desk, and at most circu- 
lated only in manuscript. Hall-Stevenson, it 
has been assumed, had one of the manuscripts, 
which he placed in Murdoch's hand for publi- 
cation. 

A clue to the existence of an edition of A 
Political Romance earlier than Murdoch's was 
derived from A Memoir of the York Press., 1868, 
by Robert Davies, a most accurate anti- 
quary. While he was writing his book he had 
access to the valuable collection of Edward 
Hailstone, Esq., of Horton Hall, Bradford, 
England, and there he saw a copy of the first 
edition bearing the date 1759. On Mr. Hail- 
stone's death in 1 8 90, this copy came to the Li- 



[ iii ] 

brary of the Dean and Chapter of York, where 
it was uncovered in September, 1905. A few 
weeks later another copy was found in a vol- 
ume of pamphlets at the York Subscription 
Library. Still another copy, bound with other 
tracts, was discovered the next year in the Li- 
brary of Trinity College, Cambridge. So far as 
it is known, no other copies are extant. In none 
of the three cases was the librarian aware that 
he had in his possession an anonymous^d-^ d' es- 
prit by Laurence Sterne. 

Our reprint is from a beautiful transcript of 
the Hailstone volume made by Miss Elizabeth 
Hastings of London. She followed the text line 
by line and page by page, and the present edi- 
tion reproduces so accurately the typography 
and the paging of the original that no biblio- 
graphical description is needed here. By com- 
paring the reprint with the usual text of the 
Romance, the reader may see how ruthlessly 
Murdoch mutilated Sterne. To be brief, he 
"corrected" the humorist's English, substitut- 
ing "elegant" phrases for quaint and homely 
idioms, and cut away the entire Key and two 
long letters that go with it. — "Alas I Poor 
Yorick!" 

To understand Sterne's humorous pamphlet, 
one must have in mind the circumstances in 
which it was written ; otherwise nothing can be 
made of it. After graduating from Jesus Col- 



[iv ] 

lege, Cambridge, Sterne entered the ministry 
of the Church of England and settled as Vicar 
of Sutton-on-the-Forest — a small village eight 
miles to the north of the city of York. Through 
the influence of his uncle. Dr. Jaques Sterne, 
Precentor to York Minster and Archdeacon of 
Cleveland, he was appointed, early in 1741, a 
prebendary in the Cathedral. Thenceforth to 
the end of his life he was a member of the 
York Chapter, composed of the Dean, canons, 
and prebendaries, for the management of all 
affairs connected with the Cathedral. Within 
the Chapter there was a good deal of maneu- 
vering, whenever a small office fell vacant, in 
the interest of friends; and at times friction 
arose between the Dean and the Archbishop 
over the real or apparent encroachment on 
each other's rights. 

The first Archbishop of York that concerns 
us was Matthew Hutton, who disliked Sterne 
and took sides against him in a quarrel that 
sprang up between Laurence and his uncle 
Jaques. In the spring of 1757, Archbishop 
Hutton was translated to the see of Canter- 
bury. His successor at York was Dr. John Gil- 
bert, for some years Bishop of Salisbury. He 
was an amiable gentleman, most friendly to- 
wards Sterne, but without the strong hand ne- 
cessary to check intrigues. Physical infirmities 
coming upon him, he rarely left his palace at 



Bishopthorpe, two miles south of York. With 
the Dean — Dr. John Fountayne — Sterne 
had been acquainted since their college days 
together at Cambridge. Theywere fast friends. 
The Dean spent much of his time at Melton 
Manor, the family seat in South Yorkshire, and 
so could not always know, any more than the 
Archbishop, what occurred at York. He was 
a colorless, good-natured ecclesiastic, inclined, 
however, to insist upon his prerogatives. 

The diocese had an arch intriguer in Dr. 
Francis Topham, the leading ecclesiastical law- 
yer at York, the official adviser to the Arch- 
bishop, to the Dean, and to many of the minor 
clergy. Never satisfied with the positions that 
he held, he was always scheming for more. In 
the autumn of 1748, he fomented a quarrel 
between Archbishop Hutton and Dean Foun- 
tayne over the appointment of preachers to the 
Cathedral. The Dean, it was averred, ordered 
the pulpit locked against a prebendary chosen 
for the day by the Chancellor of the diocese. 
For his defence of the Archbishop's rights on 
this and other occasions. Dr. Topham was ap- 
pointed, in 175 1, Commissary and Keeper- 
General of the Exchequer and Prerogative 
Courts of the Archbishop of York, — the most 
comfortable legal office within the gift of his 
Grace. Near the same time, the Commissary- 
ship of the Dean and Chapter, worth twenty 



[ "] 

pounds a year, fell vacant by the death of Dr. 
Mark Braithwaite, an advocate in the ecclesi- 
astical court. Dr. Topham made a grasp for 
that office, but missed. The place was given to 
William Stables, another ecclesiastical lawyer. 
Thereupon Dr. Topham made a grasp for the 
Commissaryship of the Peculiar Court of Pick- 
ering and Pocklington, which had likewise be- 
come vacant by the death of Dr. Mark Braith- 
waite. This office, valued at six pounds a year, 
he missed also; the Dean generously presented 
it to his friend Laurence Sterne. Over these ap- 
pointments Dr. Topham raised a loud clamor. 
Had not the Chapter been packed against 
him, he declared, he would have got the first ; 
and had the Dean kept his solemn promise, he 
would have got the second. The quarrel rose to 
its height at a dinner of the York clergy, where 
the Dean and Sterne denounced him as a liar. 
Thereafter, Dr. Topham kept reasonably 
quiet for several years — until the advent of 
Dr. Gilbert in 1757. On first meeting the new 
Archbishop, the lawyer told him that he would 
find it very difficult to live upon good terms 
with the Dean and Chapter, for they were a set 
of strange people. The Archbishop, however, 
might be assured that he would have a zealous 
champion in all disputes which might arise. 
Needless to say, Dr. Topham saw to it that 
petty disputes did arise over questions con- 



[vii] 



cerning leases of Cathedral property and the 
proper method of inducting prebendaries. It 
was not his intent to force these differences to a 
breach between the Dean and the Archbishop; 
but rather to ingratiate himself into favor at the 
palace so that Dr. Gilbert might be kindly dis- 
posed to a new and questionable scheme on 
which his heart was now set. On searching the 
records, he had discovered that the patent of 
the Commissaryship of the Exchequer and 
Prerogative Courts — his best paying office — 
had formerly been granted and enjoyed for two 
lives instead of for one life, as was then the cus- 
tom. He naturally wished a revival of the good 
old times. So he went to the Archbishop in the 
summer of 1 75 8, and asked him for permission 
to open his patent of the office, which read for 
one life only, and " to add the life of another 
proper person to it," meaning thereby, as it 
quickly transpired, the name of his own son. 
That son, then a mere boy, lived to be Edward 
Topham, playwright and libertine. 

The Archbishop was inclined to agree to 
the plan out of gratitude to Dr. Topham for 
his many services; but the Dean and Chapter, 
whose concurrence was necessary to complete 
the transaction, were hostile to the proposal. 
That the question of the appointment, which 
threatened to divide the Church of York, might 
be settled peaceably, the Dean, Dr. Topham, 



[ ^"i ] 



and several others were summoned by the 
Archbishop to meet at Bishopthorpe on No- 
vember 7, 1758, for a general conference. The 
two chief dignitaries, who had been misrepre- 
sented, each to each, by the intriguing lawyer, 
found themselves agreeably of one opinion : 
that it was inadvisable, notwithstanding an- 
cient precedent, to grant the valuable patent 
for more than one life. The lawyer, enraged at 
this decision, says Sterne, "huffed and bounced 
most terribly," threatening everybody from the 
Archbishop down to a timid surgeon, one Isaac 
Newton, who gave the story of the conference 
to the coffee-houses. Nothing coming of these 
angry violences. Dr. Topham decided to ap- 
peal to the pubHc against the Dean, whom he 
charged with working upon the sick man at 
Bishopthorpe. So, during the second week in 
December, was launched his anonymous pam- 
phlet entitled A Letter addressed to the Rever- 
end the Dean of Tork; In which is given A full 
Detail of some very extraordinary Behaviour of 
bis, in relation to bis Denial of a Promise made 
by him to Dr. topham. Though the sixpenny 
pamphlet set out to deal principally with the 
commissaryship that fell to Sterne, it neverthe- 
less touched upon all the quarrels of a dozen 
years. Two weeks later, the Dean had ready 
his retort courteous, which bore the title: An 
Answer to a Letter Addressed to the Dean of 



[ i"] 



Tork, in the Name o/Dr, 'Topham. A feature of 
this very skilful reply was a formal declaration, 
signed by Laurence Sterne, as to what took 
place at the clerical dinner when Dr. Topham 
was proved to be a liar. In concluding his open 
letter, the Dean announced that he had taken 
leave of Dr. Topham "once for all." Thus 
apparently sure of the last word, the lawyer 
poured forth the phials of his wrath in A Re- 
ply to the Answer to a Letter lately addressed to 
the Dean ofTork. With considerable humor "a 
late notable performance," supposed to be the 
Dean's, was described as "the child and off- 
spring of many parents." Mr. Sterne and some 
others, it was intimated, had been called in by 
the Dean for " correcting, revising, ornament- 
ing, and embellishing" his well-known faint 
and nerveless style. 

Some parts of the Dean's pamphlet were 
without doubt Sterne's ; but they count for no- 
thing in comparison with A Political Romance^ 
all his own, which he sent to the printer late in 
January, 1759. Dr. Topham had written in an- 
ger; the Dean replied soberly; Sterne turned 
the whole controversy into ridicule. "Above 
five hundred copies " of Sterne's pamphlet, it 
was said, "were struck off"; and "what all the 
serious arguments in the world could not effect, 
this brought about." At once Sterne had at his 
feet both friends and enemies, begging that 



[ " ] 

the Romance be suppressed. Dr. Topham sent 
word that he was ready, on this condition, to 
"quit his pretensions." Certain members of the 
York Chapter told Sterne that this humorous 
recital of their disputes would never do. The 
Archbishop and the Dean were, to say truth, 
each handsomely complimented by the way; 
but the laugh was, after all, on them as well 
as on Dr. Topham ; the publication, from any 
point of view, was, they thought, offensive to 
the dignity of the Church. Sterne heeded the 
advice of his brethren. With his assent, an 
official of the Cathedral bought up the copies 
remaining in the book-stalls and burned them 
with those still at the printer's. That was the 
current story thirty years after. But several 
copies must have been sold beyond recovery; 
and Sterne himself managed in some way to 
keep from the flames "three or four" other 
copies, which he guarded for the delight of his 
friends. It is perhaps one of these copies that 
is reprinted here. 

Sterne cast his amusing narrative in the form 
of an allegory, having in mind Swift's Voyage to 
Lilliput. That seeming great things may appear 
as small as they really are, the diocese of York 
is cut down to a country parish, and Arch- 
bishop Gilbert is thereby reduced to the rank 
of a village parson. The late parson is Arch- 
bishop Hutton. The Dean, Dr. John Foun- 



[xi ] 



tayne, shorn of his surname, becomes merely 
John the parish clerk; and the members of the 
Chapter figure as the church-wardens. Inci- 
dentally Mark Braithwaite appears as Mark 
Slender, and William Stables as William Doe. 
Dr. Topham, renamed Trim, because he re- 
ceives so thorough a trimming at the last, is 
degraded to sexton and dog-whipper of the 
parish; and Sterne himself is slightly disguised 
under the name of Lorry Slim. 

As of the characters, so of the incidents, 
which cover the bickerings of ten years, from 
1748 to 1758. In the dispute over the height 
of John's desk, everybody would see a comical 
version of the quarrel that Dr. Topham stirred 
up between Archbishop Hutton and Dean 
Fountayne over the key to the Cathedral pul- 
pit. When Trim, clad in an old coat, hat, and 
wig, emerges from the vicarage and struts 
across the churchyard, bawling out to John, 
" See here, my Lad ! how fine I am ! " — that 
is Sterne 's way of saying that Dr. Topham has 
obtained from the Archbishop the patent of the 
Prerogative Courts in defiance of the Dean's 
protest. The pair of black plush breeches which 
Trim begs John to let him have for God's sake, 
is the Commissaryship of Pickering and Pock- 
lington that the Dean refused him and be- 
stowed upon Sterne. Similarly, the green pul- 
pit-cloth and old velvet cushion, which Trim 



[xii] 



eyed with envy, stand for the Commissaryship 
of the Dean and Chapter that went to William 
Stables. The numerous semi-legal offices that 
Dr. Topham already held are symbolized, for 
example, in the "pindar's place," worth forty 
shillings a year, in the six shillings and eight 
pence that he receives for oiling and winding 
up the clock, in the six pounds a year paid him 
for catching the moles of the parish, and in the 
thirteen shillings and four pence given to his 
wife for washing and darning the church linen. 
The old garments and worn pulpit decora- 
tions being divided up among the contestants, 
the parish fell back into its usual monotonous 
drone, and would have droned on forever had 
not the old parson left his flock for a better liv- 
ing and his place been supplied by a new in- 
cumbent. Then was struck up a lively tune. 
Trim at once hastens to the rectory to sell 
himself into servitude. He blacks the parson's 
shoes, greases his boots, runs to the town for 
eggs, catches his horse and rubs him down; and 
on one occasion, when the parson cuts his finger 
in paring an apple, goes half a mile to inquire 
of an old woman what is good to staunch blood, 
and returns with a cobweb in his breeches' 
pocket. All these incidents are a burlesque of 
Dr. Topham's endless visits to Bishopthorpe 
immediately after the new Archbishop had set- 
tled at the palace. 



[ ^"^ ] 



As a reward for running on the parson's er- 
rands, Trim merely requested that he might 
have an old watch-coat which had long hung 
up in the church, apparently of no use to any- 
body. He wished to take it home and have it 
made over into an under-petticoat for his wife 
and a jerkin for himself before winter should 
come on. The parson told him he was welcome 
to it with all his heart and soul, provided it were 
in the power of his Reverence to make the gift. 
As to that, it would be necessary to consult 
the parish registry. Some days later, just as the 
parson had discovered that the watch-coat was 
an ancient possession of great value and dig- 
nity, Trim popped in with it already ripped 
into two parts and cut out for the petticoat and 
jerkin. Enraged at Trim's impudence, the par- 
son commanded him to lay down the bundle 
and to wait upon him the next morning in com- 
pany with John the parish clerk, the church- 
wardens, and one of the sidesmen. The next 
morning at eleven, passions ran high at the 
rectory. Trim pleaded the parson's promise, 
and, failing there, enumerated his humble ser- 
vices as the parson's man. But all in vain. The 
" pimping, pettyfogging, ambidextrous fel- 
low . . . was kick'd out of doors ; and told, at 
his peril, never to come there again." 

The allegory here is clear enough. By the 
watch-coat Sterne intends the Commissaryship 



[xiv] 

of the Exchequer and Prerogative Courts ; its 
being ripped up for a petticoat and a jerkin 
means that Dr. Topham made out a new patent 
for the office, in which he inserted the name of 
his own son as his successor, and then brought 
it to Archbishop Gilbert for his approval and 
signature. The hot scene at the parsonage the 
next morning is the conference held at Bishop- 
thorpe on November y, 1758. It is probable 
that Sterne, a most active member of the York 
Chapter, was present on that occasion, and so 
witnessed Dr. Topham's utter rout and angry- 
departure. 

The Key which Sterne appended to the Ro- 
mance belongs to a kind of humor common in 
the eighteenth century, a late survival of which 
may be seen in the Pickwick Club. Specifi- 
cally, it was developed from Swift's " Grand 
Committee" that sat upon the meaning of 
"A Tale of a Tub." Sterne's " Political Club," 
however, is much more than an imitation of 
Swift. For years Sterne spent many evenings, 
when in York, at a convivial club that met at 
Sunton's CofFee-House in Coney Street. Here 
were discussed the questions of the day, na- 
tional and local. It was also a gossip-shop for 
rumor, scandal, and salacious stories and jests. 
The " Political Club," which devoted an en- 
tire session to the Romance^ was, I take it, a bur- 
lesque of the transactions of Sterne's own club. 



[X.] 

Under the disguise of a surgeon, lawyer, apoth- 
ecary, undertaker, and the president who loved 
an hypothesis better than his Hfe, he probably 
drew little portraits of the members — their 
mannerisms and favorite gestures, and their 
vehemence in the expression of their opinions. 
What kind of men they were further than this 
or what names they bore — we may never 
know, except, to be sure, that the Vicar of Sut- 
ton is among them. He is the parson of the 
parish, smart in repartee and ready to defend by 
a counter-jest an attack upon the cloth, just as 
was related in many an anecdote of Sterne 
once current and as may be seen in the char- 
acter he drew of himself in Parson Yorick. 

To these obscure associates Sterne had been 
long known for his overpowering sense of 
humor. "He loved a jest in his heart." He 
had contributed political paragraphs to York 
and London newspapers, and had read to his 
friends his quaint verses occasioned by hear- 
ing the great bell of the Cathedral toll for the 
dead; but it was xt2i\\y A Political Romance that 
first revealed to the author and his club that 
he could write "so as to make his reader laugh." 
Having once discovered his talent, Sterne im- 
mediately sat down to "Tristram Shandy^ and 
within a year entered upon his fame. 

Wilbur L. Cross. 
August 20, 1 9 14. 



A 

Political Romance, 

Addrefled 

To , Efq-, 

O F 

YORK. 

To which is fubjoined a 

KEY. 



Ridiculum acri 
Fortius et melius magnas pier umque fee at Res. 



e^^ 
^^^ 



r O R K: 

Printed in the Year MDCCLIX. 

[ Price One Shilling.] 







Political Romance^ ^c. 



SIR, 

FS^S^'^N my laft, for want of fome- 
^ (^ thine: better to write about, 

53^ -^ ^ I told you what a World of 
^ ^^ Fending and Proving we have 

lage of ours, about an old-caJl-Pair-of- 
black-PluJh-Breeches, which 'Johriy our Pa- 
riih-Clerk, about ten Years ago, it feems, 
had made a Promife of to one Trim, who 

is our Sexton and Dog-Whipper. To 

this you write me Word, that you have 
had more than either one or two Occafions 
to know a good deal of the fhifty Beha- 
viour of this faid Mafter Trim^ — and that 

A you 



[ o 

you are aftoniflied, nor can you for your 
Soul conceive, how fo worthlefs a Fellow, 
and fo worthlefs a Thing into the Bargain, 
could become the Occalion of fuch a 
Racket as I have reprefented. 

Now, though you do not fay expreffly, 
you could wifh to hear any more about it, 
yet I fee plain enough that I have raifed 
your Curiofity ; and therefore, from the 
fame Motive, that I flightly mentioned it 
at all in my laft Letter, I will, in this, give 
you a full and very circumftantial Account 
of the whole Affair. 

But, before I begin, I muft firft fet you 
right in one very material Point, in which 
I have miffled you, as to the true Caufe 
of all this Uproar amongft us ; — which 
does not take its Rife, as I then told you, 
from the Affair of the Breeches-, — but, on 
the contrary, the whole Affair of the 
Breeches has taken its Rife from it : — 
To underftand which, you muft know, 
that the firft Beginning of the Squabble 
was not between John the Parifh-Clerk 
and Trim the Sexton, but betwixt the Par- 
fon of the Pariih and the faid Mafter Triniy 

about 



[ 3 ] 

about an old Watch-Coat, which had many 
Years hung up in the Church, which Trim 
had fet his Heart upon ; and nothing would 
ferve Trim but he muft take it home, in 
order to have it converted into a warm 
Under-Petticoat for his Wife, and a Jerkin 
for himfelf, againft Winter ; which, in a 
plaintive Tone, he moft humbly begg'd his 
Reverence would confent to. 

I need not tell you. Sir, who have lb 
often felt it, that a Principle of ftrong 
Compaffion tranfports a generous Mind 
fometimes beyond what is ftridtly right, — 
the Parfon was within an Ace of being an 
honourable Example of this very Crime; — 
for no fooner did the diftindl Words — 
Petticoat — poor Wife — warm — Winter 

ftrike upon his Ear, but his Heart 

warmed, and, before Trim had well got 
to the End of his Petition, (being a Gentle- 
man of a frank and open Temper) he told 
him he was welcome to it, with all his 
Heart and Soul. But, Trim, fays he, as you 
fee I ambut juftgot down to my Living, and 
am an utter Stranger to all Parifh-Matters, 
know nothing about this old Watch-Coat 
you beg of me, having never feen it in my 

A 2 Life, 



[ 4 ] 

Life, and therefore cannot be a Judge 
whether 'tis fit for fuch a Purpofe ; or, if 
it is, in Truth, know not whether 'tis 
mine to beftow upon you or not ; — you 
muft have a Week or ten Days Patience, 
till I can make fome Inquiries about it ; — 
and, if I find it is in my Power, I tell you 
again, Man, your Wife is heartily welcome 
to an Under-Petticoat out of it, and you 
to a Jerkin, was the Thing as good again 
as you reprefent it. 

It is neceffary to inform you. Sir, in 
this Place, That the Parfon was earneftly 
bent to ferve Trim in this Affair, not only 
fi-om the Motive of Generofity, which I 
have juftly afcribed to him, but likewife 
from another Motive ; and that was by 
way of making fome Sort of Recompence 
for a Multitude of fmall Services which 
Trim had occafionally done, and indeed 
was continually doing, (as he was much 
about the Houfe) when his own Man was 
out of the way. For all thefe Reafons to- 
gether, I fay, the Parfon of the Parifh in- 
tended to ferve Trim in this Matter to the 
utmoft of his Power ; All that was want- 
ing was previoufly to inquire, if any one 

had 



[ 5 ] 

had a Claim to it ; — or whether, as it had, 
Time immemorial, hung up in the 
Church, the taking it down might not 
raife a Clamour in the Parifh. Thefe In- 
quiries were the very Thing that 'Trim 
dreaded in his Heart. — He knew very 
well that if the Parfon fhould but fay one 
Word to the Church- Wardens about it, 
there would be an End of the whole Af- 
fair. For this, and fome other Reafons not 
neceffary to be told you, at prefent, Trim 
was for allowing no Time in this Mat- 
ter ; — but, on the contrary, doubled his 
Diligence and Importunity at the Vicarage- 
Houfe ; — plagued the whole Family to 
Death; prelTed his fuit Morning, Noon, 
and Night ; and, to fhorten my Story, 
teazed the poor Gentleman, who was but 
in an ill State of Health, almoftout of his 
Life about it. 

You will not wonder, when I tell you, 
that all this Hurry and Precipitation, on 
the Side of Mafter Trim, produced its na- 
tural Effect on the Side of the Parfon, and 
that was, a Sufpicion that all was not right 
at the Bottom. 

He 



[ 6 ] 

He was one Evening fitting alone in his 
Study, weighing and turning this Doubt 
every Way in his Mind ; and, after an 
Hour and a half's ferious Deliberation up- 
on the Affair, and running over Trim'^ Be- 
haviour throughout, — he was juft faying 
to himfelf, // muji be fo ; when a fudden 
Rap at the Door put an End to his Solilo- 
quy, — and, in a few Minutes, to his 
Doubts too ; for a Labourer in the Town, 
who deem'd himfelf pa ft his fifty-fecond 
Year, had been returned by the Conftable 
in the Militia-Lift, — and he had come, 
with a Groat in his Hand, to fearch the 
Parifh Regifter for his Age. — The Parfon 
bid the poor Fellow put the Groat into his 
Pocket, and go into the Kitchen : — Then 
fhutting the Study Door, and taking down 
the Parifh Regifter, — Who knows, fays he, 
hut I may find fome thing here ahout this f elf - 
fame Watch-Coat? — He had fcarce un- 
clafped the Book, in faying this, when he 
popped upon the very Thing he wanted, 
fairly wrote on the firft Page, pafted to the 
Infide of one of the Covers, whereon was 
a Memorandum about the very Thing in 
Qu eft ion, in thefe exprefs Words: 



[ 7 ] 

€J)e great Wattl)-.€oat toa^ iJurcJjafeti 
anJj giben abobe ttoo fjuntireti Scar^ ago, 
hp t|)e Jtocti of ti\t M^amty to tfti^ ^arifl):: 
Cl)utcJ), to tlje fole afe anti 25el)oof of tl)c 
poor cSexton^ tljercof , anti tt\m cSucccffor^, 
for eber, to fie toorn bp tl)em refpectitelp 
in tDinterlp colD |i5igl)t^, in ringing Com- 

plineSjPaffing-Bells, &c. toljici) tl)efaitl Hortl 

of tt\t itir^anor l^ab Done, in ^ietp, to fteep 
tl^e poor ^retclje^ bDarm, anti for tJ)e oBooti 
of f)i^ oton ^oul, for tofjici) tl^ep toere hu 
recteti to prap, &c. &c. &c. &c. Juft Hea- 
ven I faid the Parfon to himfelf, looking 
upwards, What an Efcape have I had ! 
Give this for an Under-Petticoat to Trim'j" 
Wife ! I would not have confented to fuch 
a Defecration to be Primate of all Eng- 
land ; nay^ I would not have dijlurb' d a 
fngle Button of it for half my Tythes ! 

Scarce were the Words out of his Mouth, 
when in pops 'Trim with the whole Sub- 
jed: of the Exclamation under both his 
Arms. — I fay, under both his Arms ; — for 
he had adlually got it ripp'd and cut out 
ready, his own Jerkin under one Arm, and 
the Petticoat under the other, in order to 
be carried to the Taylor to be made up, — 

and 



[8] 

and had juft ftepp'd in, in high Spirits, to 
fhew the Parfon how cleverly it had held 
out. 

There are many good Similies now fub- 
fifting in the World, but which I have nei- 
ther Time to recoiled: or look for, which 
would give you a ftrong Conception of 
the Aftonifhment and honeft Indignation 
which this unexpected Stroke of Trim^ 
Impudence impreff'd upon the Parfon's 
Looks. — Let it fuffice to fay. That it ex- 
ceeded all fair Defcription, — as well as all 
Power of proper Refentment, — except 
this, that 'Trim was ordered, in a ftern 
Voice, to lay the Bundles down upon the 
Table, — to go about his Bufinefs, and wait 
upon him, at his Peril, the next Morning 
at Eleven precifely: Againft this Hour 
like a wife Man, the Parfon had fent to 
defire 'John the Parifh-Clerk, who bore 
an exceeding good Charadier as a Man of 
Truth, and who having, moreover, a 
pretty Freehold of about eighteen Pounds a 
Year in the Townfhip, was a leading Man 
in it ; and, upon the whole, was fuch a 
one of whom it might be faid, — That he 
rather did Honour to his Office, — than 

that 



[ 9 ] 

that his Office did Honour to him. — Him 
he fends for, with the Church- Wardens, 
and one of the Sides-Men, a grave, know- 
ing, old Man, to be prefent : — For as Trim 
had with-held the whole Truth from the 
Parfon, touching the Watch-Coat, he 
thought it probable he would as certainly 
do the fame Thing to others ; though this, 
I faid, was wife, the Trouble of the Precau- 
tion might have been fpared, — becaufe the 
Parfon's Character was unblemifh'd, — and 
he had ever been held by the World in the 
Eftimation of a Man of Honour and Inte- 
grity. — Trim's Character, on the contrary, 
was as well known, if not in the World, 
yet, at leaft, in all the Parifh, to be that of 
a little, dirty, pimping, pettifogging, ambi- 
dextrous Fellow, — who neither cared what 
he did or faid of any, provided he could get a 
Penny by it . — This might, I fay, have made 
any Precaution needlefs ; — but you muft 
know, as the Parfon had in a Manner but 
juft got down to his Living, he dreaded the 
Confequences of the leaft ill Impreffion on 
his firft Entrance amongft his Parifhioners, 
which would have difabled him from do- 
ing them the Good he wiflhed ; — so that, 
out of Regard to his Flock, more than the 

B necef- 



[ .o ] 

neceflary Care due to himfelf, — he was re- 
folv'd not to lie at the Mercy of what Re- 
fentment might vent, or Malice lend an Ear 
to. — Accordingly the whole Matter was 
rehearfed from fir ft to la ft by the Parfon, 
in the Manner IVe told you, in the Hear- 
ing of 'John the Parifti-Clerk, and in the 
Prefence of Trim, 

Trim had little to fay for himfelf, ex- 
cept " That the Parfon had abfolutely pro- 
mifed to befriend him and his Wife in the 
Affair, to the utmoft of his Power : That 
the Watch- Coat was certainly in his 
Power, and that he might ftill give it him 
if he pleafed." 

To this, the Parfon's Reply was ftiort, 
but ftrong, "That nothing was in his 
Power to do, but what he could do honejl- 
ly ; — That in giving the Coat to him and 
his Wife, he fliould do a manifeft Wrong to 
the next Sexton ; the great Watch- Coat 
being the moft comfortable Part of the 
Place : — That he ftiould, moreover, injure 
the Right of his own Succeflbr, who would 
be juft fo much a worfe Patron, as the 
Worth of the Coat amounted to ; — and in 



[■■] 

a Word, he declared that his whole Intent 
in promifing that Coat, was Charity to 
Tr/;;/ ; but Wrong to no Man ; that was a 
Referve, he faid, made in all Cafes of this 
Kind: — and he declared folemnly, in Verbo 
Sacerdotis, That this was his Meaning, and 
was fo underftood by Trim himfelf." 

With the Weight of this Truth, and the 
great good Senfe and ftrong Reafon which 
accompanied all the Parfon faid upon the 
Subjed:, — poor Trim was driven to his laft 
Shift, — and begg'd he might be fuffered 
to plead his Right and Title to the Watch- 
Coat, if not by Promifcy at leaft by Servi- 
ces, — It was well known how much he 
was entitled to it upon thefe Scores : That 
he had black'd the Parfon's Shoes without 
Count, and greafed his Boots above fifty 
Times : — That he had run for Eggs into the 
Town upon all Occafions ; — whetted the 
Knives at all Hours ; — catched his Horfe 
and rubbed him down: — That for his 
Wife fhe had been ready upon all Occafions 
to charr for them ; — and nei ther he nor fhe, 
to the befi: of his Remembrance, ever took 
a Farthing, or any thing beyond a Mug of 
Ale. — To this Account of his Services he 

B 2 begg'd 



begg*d Leave to add thofe of his Wifhes, 
which, he faid, had been equally great. — 
He affirmed, and was ready, he faid, to 
make it appear, by Numbers of Witneffes, 
"He had drank his Reverence's Health a 
thoufand Times, (by the bye, he did not 
add out of the Parfon's own Ale) : That 
he not only drank his Health, but wifh'd 
it ; and never came to the Houfe, but afk'd 
his Man kindly how he did; that in par- 
ticular, about half a Year ago, when his 
Reverence cut his Finger in paring an Ap- 
ple, he went half a Mile to afk a cunning 
Woman, what was good to ftanch Blood, 
and adiually returned with a Cobweb in his 
Breeches Pocket : — Nay, fays Trimy it 
was not a Fortnight ago, when your Reve- 
rence took that violent Purge, that I went 
to the far End of the whole Town to bor- 
row you a Clofe-ftool, — and came back, 
as my Neighbours, who flouted me, will 
all bear witnefs, with the Pan upon my 
Head, and never thought it too much." 

Trim concluded his pathetick Remon- 
ftrance with faying, " He hoped his Re- 
verence's Heart would not fuflFer him to 
requite fo many faithful Services by fo un- 
kind 



[■3] 



kind a Return : — That if it was fo, as he 
was the firft, fo he hoped he lliould be the 
laft, Example of a Man of his Condition 
fo treated." This Plan of Trim\ De- 
fence, which Trim had put himfelf upon, 
— could admit of no other Reply but a ge- 
neral Smile. 

Upon the whole, let me inform you, 
That all that could be faid, pro and con, on 
both Sides, being fairly heard, it was plain, 
That Trim, in every Part of this Affair, 

had behaved very ill ; and one Thing, 

which was never expecSled to be known of 
him, happening in the Courfe of this De- 
bate to come out againft him ; — namely, 
That he had gone and told the Parfon, be- 
fore he had ever fet Foot in his Parifh, 
That John his Parifh-Clerk, his Church- 
Wardens, and fome of the Heads of the 
Parifh, were a Parcel of Scoundrels. — Up 
on the Upfhot, Trim was kick'd out of 
Doors ; and told, at his Peril, never to 
come there again. 

At firft Trim huff'd and bounced most 
terribly ; — fwore he would get a War- 
rant ; — then nothing would ferve him but 

he 



J 



[.4] 

he would call a Bye-Law, and tell the 
whole Parifh how the Parfon had mifufed 
him ; — but cooling of that, as fearing the 
Parfon might poffibly bind him over to his 
good Behaviour, and, for aught he knew, 
might fend him to the Houfe of Correc- 
tion, — he let the Parfon alone ; and to re- 
venge himfelf, falls foul upon his Clerk, 
who had no more to do in the Quarrel than 
you or I ; — rips up the Promife of the old- 
caft—Pair-of-black—Plujfh— Breeches, and 
raifes an Uproar in the Town about it, not- 
withftanding it had flept ten Years. — But 
all this you muft know, is looked upon in 
no other Light, but as an artful ftroke of 
Generalfhip in T^rim, to raife a Duft, and 
cover himfelf under the difgraceful Cha- 
ftifement he had undergone. 

If your curiofity is not yet fatiffied, — I 
will now proceed to relate the Battle of 
the Breeches, in the fame exad: Manner 
I have done that of the Watch-Coat. 

Be it known then, that, about ten 
Years ago, when yohn was appointed Pa- 
rifh-Clerk of this Church, this faid Mafter 
Trim took no fmall Pains to get into JohrC^ 

good 



[■5] 

good Graces; in order, as it afterwards 
appeared, to coax a Promife out of him of 
a Pair of Breeches, which John had then 
by him, of black Plufh, not much the 
worfe for wearing ; — Trim only begging 
for God's fake to have them beftowed up- 
on him when yohn should think fit to caft 
them. 

Trim was one of thofe kind of Men who 
loved a Bit of Finery in his Heart, and 
would rather have a tatter'd Rag of a Bet- 
ter Body's, than the beft plain whole Thing 
his Wife could fpin him. 

yohn, who was naturally unfufpicious, 
made no more Difficulty of promifing the 
Breeches, than the Parfon had done in pro- 
mifing the Great Coat ; and, indeed, with 

fomething lefs Referve, becaufe the 

Breeches were Johri^ own, and he could 
give them, without Wrong, to whom he 
thought fit. 

It happened, I was going to fay un- 
luckily, but I fhould rather fay, moft 
luckily, for Trim, for he was the only 
Gainer by it, — that a Quarrel, about fome 

fix 



[.6] 

fix or eight Weeks after this, broke out 
between the late Parfon of the Parifli 
and John the Clerk. Somebody (and 
it was thought to be Nobody but Trim) 
had put it into the Parfon's Head, " That 
John\ Defk in the Church was, at the 
leaft, four Inches higher than it fhould 

be : That the Thing gave OfFenfe, 

and was indecorous, inafmuch as it ap- 
proach'd too near upon a Level with the 
Parfon's Defk itfelf This Hardfhip the 
Parfon complained of loudly, — and told 
John one Day after Prayers, — "He could 
bear it no longer : — And would have it al- 
tered and brought down as it fhould be." 
John made no other Reply, but, ** That 
the Defk was not of his raifing : — That 
'twas not one Hair Breadth higher than he 
found it ; — and that as he found it, fo would 
he leave it : — In fhort, he would neither 
make an Encroachment, nor would he 
fuffer one." 

The late Parfon might have his Virtues, 
but the leading Part of his Charadier was 
not Humility ; fo that John^ Stiffnefs in 
this Point was not likelv to reconcile Mat- 
ters. — This was Trim'^ Harvefl. 

After 



[>7] 

After a friendly Hint to 'John to ftand 
his Ground, — away hies Trim to make his 
Market at the Vicarage : — What paff*d 
there, I will not fay, intending not to be 
uncharitable; fo fhall content myfelf with 
only gueffing at it, from the fudden change 
that appeared in Trim'^ Drefs for the bet- 
ter ; — for he had left his old ragged Coat, 
Hat and Wig, in the Stable, and was come 
forth strutting acrofs the Church-yard, 
y'clad in a good creditable caft Coat, large 
Hat and Wig, which the Parfon had just 
given him. — Ho ! Ho ! Hollo ! yohn ! 
cries Trimy in an infolent Bravo, as loud as 
ever he could bawl — See here, my Lad ! 
how fine I am. — The more Shame for 
you, anfwered Johriy ferioufly. — Do you 
think, Trim, fays he, fuch Finery, gained 
by fuch Services, becomes you, or can 
wear well ? — Fye upon it. Trim ; — I could 
not have expected this from you, confi- 
dering what Friendfhip you pretended, 
and how kind I have ever been to you : 
— how many Shillings and Sixpences I 
have generoufly lent you in your Diftref- 
fes ? — Nay, it was but t'other Day that I 
promifed you thefe black Plufh Breeches I 

have on. Rot your Breeches, quoth 

C Trim 



[■8] 

Trim ; for Trim\ Brain was half turn'd 
with his new Finery : — Rot your Breeches, 
fays he, — I would not take them up, were 
they laid at my Door ; — give 'em, and be 

d — d to you, to whom you like ; I 

would have you to know I can have a bet- 
ter Pair at the Parfon's any Day in the 
Week: — yohn told him plainly, as his 
Word had once palTd him, he had a Spi- 
rit above taking Advantage of his Info- 
lence, in giving them away to another : — 
But, to tell him his Mind freely, he 
thought he had got fo many Favours of 
that Kind, and was fo likely to get many 
more for the fame Services, of the Parfon, 
that he had better give up the Breeches, 
with good Nature, to fome one who would 
be more thankful for them. 

Here "John mentioned Mark Slender, 
(who, it feems, the Day before, had afk'd 
'John for 'em) not knowing they were un- 
der Promife to Trim. ** Come, Trim, 

fays he, let poor Mark have 'em, 

You know he has not a Pair to his 

A : Befides, you fee he is ju ft of my 

Size, and they will fit him to a T ; where- 
as, if I give 'em to you, — look ye, they 

are 



[■9] 



are- not worth much ; and, befides, you 
could not get your Backlide into them, if 
you had them, without tearing them all 
to Pieces." 

Every Tittle of this was moft undoubt- 
edly true ; for Trim, you muft know, by 
foul Feeding, and playing the good Fel- 
low at the Parfon's, was grown fomewhat 
grofs about the lower Parts, //" ;^^/ higher: 
So that, as all "John faid upon the Occa- 
fion was fadt, 'Trim with much ado, and 
after a hundred Hum's and Hah's, at laft, 
out of mere compaffion to Mark, JignSy 
feds and delivers up all iSigl^t, S^nteteft, 

ant! ^retenfion^ toftatfoetoer, m atiD to tl)e 
faiti %utt^t^ ; tl)ereBp bintiittg ^\^ i^eitie?, 
€j:ecutor^, ai^trniinifttator^, anti ^(.flisne^, 
neber more to call t^t faiti Claim in aSue^: 
ftion* 

All this Renunciation was fet forth in 
an ample Manner, to be in pure Pity to 
Mark\ Nakednefs ; — but the Secret was, 
Trim had an Eye to, and firmly expected 
in his own Mind, the great Green Pulpit- 
Cloth and old Velvet Cufhion, which 
were that very Year to be taken down ; — 

C 2 which 



r.o] 



which, by the Bye, could he have wheed- 
led John a fecond Time out of 'em, as he 
hoped, he had made up the Lofs of his 
Breeches Seven-fold. 

Now, you muft know, this Pulpit- 
Cloth and Cufhion were not in 'John\ 
Gift, but in the Church- Wardens, Qfr. — 
However, as I faid above, that 'John was 
a leading Man in the Pariih, Trim knew 
he could help him to them if he would : — 

But John had got a Surfeit of him ; 

fo, when the Pulpit-cloth, ^c were ta- 
ken down, they were immediately given 
[John having a great fay in it) to William 
Doe, who underftood very well what Ufe 
to make of them. 

As for the old Breeches, poor Mark 
Slender lived to wear them but a fhort 
Time, and they got into the PofTeffion of 
Lorry Slim, an unlucky Wight, by whom 

they are ftill worn ; in Truth, as 

you will guefs, they are very thin by this 
Time: — But Lorry has a light Heart ; and 
what recommends them to him, is this, 
that, as thin as they are, he knows that 
Trim, let him fay what he will to the con- 
trary, ftill envies the PoJfeJJor of them, — 

and 



and, with all his Pride, would be very glad 
to wear them after him. 

Upon this Footing have thefe Affairs 

flept quietly for near ten Years, and 

would have flept for ever, but for the un- 
lucky Kicking-Bout ; which, as I faid, 
has ripp'd this Squabble up afrefh : So 
that it was no longer than lafl Week, 
that Trim met and infulted yohn in the 
public Town- Way, before a hundred 
People ; — tax'd him with the Promife of 
the old-caft-Pair-of-black-Breeches, not- 
withflanding Trim'^ folemn Renunciation; 
twitted him with the Pulpit-Cloth and 
Velvet Cufhion, — as good as told him, he 
was ignorant of the common Duties of his 
Clerkfhip; adding, very infolently. That 
he knew not fo much as to give out a 
common Pfalm in Tune. 

yohn contented himfelf with giving a 
plain Anfwer to every Article that Trim 
had laid to his Charge, and appealed to his 
Neighbours who remembered the whole 
Affair ; — and as he knew there was never 
any Thing to be got in wreflling with a 

Chim- 



[.. ] 

Chimney-Sweeper, — he was going to take 
Leave of Trim for ever. — But, hold, — 
the Mob by this Time had got round 
them, and their High Might ineffes infifted 
upon having Trim tried upon the Spot. — 
Trim vras accordingly tried ; and, after a 
full Hearing, was convicted afecond Time, 
and handled more roughly by one or more 
of them, than even at the Parfon's. 

Trim, fays one, are you not afhamed of 
yourfelf, to make all this Rout and Di- 
fturbance in the Town, and fet Neigh- 
bours together by the Ears, about an old- 
worn - out - Pair -of- caft - Breeches, not 
worth Half a Crown ? — Is there a caft- 
Coat, or a Place in the whole Town, that 
will bring you in a Shilling, but what you 
have fnapp*d up, like a greedy Hound as 
you are? 

ft 

In the firft Place, are you not Sexton 
and Dog-Whipper, worth Three Pounds 
a Year ? — Then you begg'd the Church- 
Wardens to let your Wife have the Waih- 
ing and Darning of the Surplice and 
Church-Linen, which brings you in Thir- 
teen 



[^3] 

teen Shillings and Four Pence. — Then you 
have Six Shillings and Eight Pence for 
oiling and winding up the Clock, both paid 
you at Rafter, — The Pinder's Place, which 
is worth Forty Shillings a Year, — you have 
got that too. — You are the Bailiff, which the 
late Parfon got you, which brings you in 
Forty Shillings more. — Befidesall this,you 
have Six Pounds a Year, paid you Quarter- 
ly for being Mole-Catcher to the Pari(h. — 
Aye, fays the lucklefs Wight above-men- 
tioned, (who was ftanding clofe to him 
with his Plufh Breeches on) "You are not 
only Mole-Catcher, Tritriy but you catch 
Stray Conies too in the Dark; and you 
pretend a Licence for it, which, I trow, 
will be look'd into at the next Quarter Sef- 
fions." I maintain it, I have a Licence, 
fays Trimy blufhing as red as Scarlet : — 
I have a Licence, — and as I farm a War- 
ren in the next Parifh, I will catch Conies 
every Hour of the Night. — Tou catch 
Conies! cries a toothlefs old Woman, who 
was juft paffing by. 

This fet the Mob a laughing, and fent 
every Man home in perfect good Humour, 

except 



[24] 

except Trim, who waddled very flowly 
off with that Kind of inflexible Gravity 
only to be equalled by one Animal in the 
whole Creation, — and furpaffed by none. 
I am, 

SIR, 

Tours, &c. &c. 



N I 



5. 




POSTSCRIPT. 

I Have broke open my Letter to inform 
you, that I milT'd the Opportunity of 
fending it by the Meifenger, who I ex- 
pected would have called upon me in his 
Return through this Village to Yorky fo it 
has laid a Week or ten Days by me. 

I am not forry for the Difappoint- 

ment, becaufe Ibmething has fince hap- 
pened, in Continuation of this Affair, 
which I am thereby enabled to tranfmit to 
you, all under one Trouble. 

When I finifhed the above Account, I 
thought (as did every Soul in the Parifh) 
T^rim had met with fo thorough a Rebuff 
from "John the Pariili-Clerk and the 
Town's Folks, who all took againft him, 
that Trim would be glad to be quiet, and 
let the Matter reft. 

But, it feems, it is not half an Hour ago 
fince T^rim fallied forth again; and, having 
borrowed a Sow-Gelder*s Horn, with hard 
Blowing he got the whole Town round 
him, and endeavoured to raife a Difturb- 

D ance. 



[.6] 

ance, and fight the whole Battle over 
again : — That he had been ufed in the laft 
Fray worfe than a Dog ; — not by yohn the 
Parifh-Clerk, — for I fhou'd not, quoth 
Trim, have valued him a Ruih fingle 
Hands: — But all the Town fided with him, 
and twelve Men in Buckram fet upon me 
all at once, and kept me in Play at Sword's 
Point for three Hours together. — Befides, 
quoth Trimy there were two mifbegotten 
Knaves in Kendal Green, who lay all the 
while in Ambufh in yohns own Houfe, 
and they all fixteen came upon my Back, 
and let drive at me together. — A Plague, 
fays Trim, of all Cowards! — Tr/;w repeated 
this Story above a Dozen Times ; — which 
made fome of the Neigbours pity him, 
thinking the poor Fellow crack-brain'd, 
and that he actually believed what he faid. 
After this Trim dropped the Affair of 
the Breeches y and begun a frefh Difpute 
about the Reading-Dejk, which I told you 
had occafioned fome fmall Difpute be- 
tween the late Parfon and yohn, fome 
Years ago. 

This Reading-Dejky as you will obferve, 
was but an Epifode wove into the main 
Story by the Bye ; — for the main Affair 

was 



[^7] 

was the Battle of the Breeches and Great 
Watch-Coat, — However, 'Trim being at 
laft driven out of thefe two Citadels, — he 
has feized hold, in his Retreat, of this 
Reading-Dejk, with a View, as it feems, 
to take Shelter behind it. 

I cannot fay but the man has fought it 
out obftinately enough ; — and, had his 
Caufe been good, I fhould have really pi- 
tied him. For when he was driven out 
of the Great Watch Coat, — you see, he 
did not run away ; — no, — he retreated be- 
hind the Breeches ; — and, when he could 
make nothing of it behind the Breeches , — 
he got behind the Reading-Dejk. — To what 
other Hold Trim will next retreat, the 
Politicians of this Village are not agreed. — 
Some think his next Move will be towards 
the Rear of the Parfon's Boat ; — but, as it 
is thought he cannot make a long Stand 
there, — others are of Opinion, That Trim 
will once more in his Life get hold of the 
Parfon's Horfe, and charge upon him, or 
perhaps behind him. — But as the Horfe 
is not eafy to be caught, the more general 
Opinion is, That, when he is driven out 
of the Reading-Dejky he will make his laft 
Retreat in fuch a Manner as, if poffible, 

Da to 



[.8] 

to gain the Clofe-Stool, and defend him- 
felf behind it to the very laft Drop. If 
Trim fliould make this Movement, by my 
Advice he fhould be left befides his Cita- 
del, in full Poffeffion of the Field of 
Battle ; — where, 'tis certain, he will keep 
every Body a League off, and may pop by 
himfelf till he is weary : Befides, as Trim 
feems bent upon purging himfelf, and may 
have Abundance of foul Humours to work 
off, I think he cannot be better placed. 

But this is all Matter of Speculation. — 
Let me carry you back to Matter of Fadt, 
and tell you what Kind of a Stand Trim 
has adtually made behind the faid Dejk. 

" Neighbours and Townfmen all, I will 
be fworn before my Lord Mayor, That 
yohn and his nineteen Men in Buckram, 
have abufed me worfe than a Dog ; for they 
told you that I play'd fail and go-loose 
with the late Parfon and him, in that old 
Difpute of theirs about the Reading-Dejk ; 
and that I made Matters worfe between 
them, and not better." 

Of this Charge, Trim declared he was 
as innocent as the Child that was unborn : 

That 



[^9] 

That he would be Book-fworn he had no 
Hand in it. He produced a ftrong Wit- 
nefs ; — and, moreover, infinuated, that 
'John himfelf, inftead of being angry for 
what he had done in it, had adiually 
thank'd him. Aye, Trim, fays the 
Wight in the Plufh Breeches, but that 
was, Trirriy the Day before John found 
thee out. — Befides, Trim, there is nothing 
in that : — For, the very Year that thou 
waft made Town's Pinder, thou knoweft 
well, that I both thank'd thee myfelf ; and, 
moreover, gave thee a good warm Supper 
for turning John Lund's Cows and Horfes 
out of my Hard-Corn Clofe; which if 
thou had'ft not done, (as thou told'ft me) 
I fliould have loft my whole Crop: 
Whereas, John Lund and Thomas Patt, 
who are both here to teftify, and will take 
their Oaths on't. That thou thyfelf waft 
the very Man who fet the Gate open; and, 
after all, — it was not thee Trim, — 'twas 
the Blackfmith's poor Lad who turn'd 
them out : So that a Man may be thank'd 
and rewarded too for a good Turn which 
he never did, nor ever did intend. 

Trim could not fuftain this unexpedied 
Stroke ; — fo Trim march'd off the Field, 

without 



[3°] 



without Colours flying, or his Horn found- 
ing, or any other Enfigns of Honour 
whatever. 

Whether after this Trim intends to rally 
a fecond Time, — or whether Trim may 
not take it into his Head to claim the Vic- 
tory, — no one but Trim himfelf can in- 
form you : However, the general Opi- 
nion, upon the whole, is this, That, 

in three feveral pitched Battles, Trim has 
been fo trimm'd, as never difaftrous Hero 
was trimm'd before him. 




The 



[3.] 



The key. 

THIS Romance was, by fome Mif- 
chance or other, dropped in the 
Minfter 'Tardy York, and pick'd up by a 
Member of a fmall Political Club in that 
City ; where it was carried, and publickly 
read to the Members the laft Club Night. 

It was inftantly agreed to, by a great 
Majority, That it was a Political Romance ; 
but concerning what State or Potentate, 
could not fo eafily be fettled amongfl them. 

The Prefident of the Night, who is 
thought to be as clear and quick-fighted 
as any one of the whole Club in Things of 
this Nature, difcovered plainly, That the 
Difturbances therein fet forth, related to 
thofe on the Continent : — That Trim could 
be Nobody but the King of France, by 
whofe fhifting and intriguing Behaviour, 
all Europe was fet together by the Ears : — 
That Trim'% Wife was certainly the Km- 
prefsy who are as kind together, fays he, 
as any Man and Wife can be for their 

Lives. 



[3^] 

Lives. — The more Shame for 'em, fays an 
Alderman, low to himfelf. — Agreeable to 
this Key, continues the Prefident, — The 
ParfoUy who I think is a moft excellent 
Character, — is His Moft Excellent Ma- 
jefty King George; — yohn, the Parifh- 
Clerk, is the King of PruJJia ; who, by the 
Manner of hisfirft entering tS^x^wy, fliew'd 
the World moft evidently, — That he did 
know how to lead out the Pfalm, and in 
Tune and Time too, notwithftanding 
Trim^s vile Infult upon him in that Parti- 
cular. — But who do you think, fays a Sur- 
geon and Man-Midwife, who fat next 
him, (whofe Coat-Button the Prefident, 
in the Earneftnefs of this Explanation, had 
got faft hold of, and had thereby partly 
drawn him over to his Opinion ) Who do 
you think, M.^ Prefident, fays he, are 
meant by the Church- Wardens, Sides- Men, 
Mark Slender^ Lorry Slim, &c. — Who do 
I think ? fays he. Why, — Why, Sir, as I 
take the Thing, — the Church- War dens 
and Sides-Men, are the EleBors and the 
other Princes who form the Germanick 
Body. — And as for the other fubordinate 
Characters of Mark Slim ? — the unlucky 
Wight in the Plufti Breeches, — the Parfon*s 

Man 



[33] 

Man who was fo often out of the Way, 

&c. &c. these, to be fure are the fe- 

veral Marfhals and Generals, who fought, 
or fhould have fought, under them the laft 
Campaign. — The Men in Buckraniy con- 
tinued the Prefident, are the Grofs of the 
King of Prujjia'^ Army, who was ^^Jiiff 
a Body of Men as are in the World : — And 
Trim'^ faying they were twelve, and then 
nineteen, is a Wipe for the Brujfels Gazet- 
teer ^ who, to my Knowledge, was never 
two Weeks in the fame Story, about that 
or any thing elfe. 

As for the reft of the Romance , continu- 
ed the Prefident, it fufficiently explains it- 
felf, — The Old-caJl-F air-of-Black-PluJh- 
Breeches muft be Saxony, which the Elec- 
tor , you fee, has left off wearing \ — And 
as for the Great Watch-Coat , which, you 
know, covers all, it fignifies all Europe; 
comprehending, at leaft, fo many of its 
different States and Dominions, as we 
have any Concern with in the prefent 
War. 

I proteft, fays a Gentleman who fat 
next but one to the Prefident, and who, it 
feems, was the Parfon of the Parifh, a 

E Mem- 



[3+] 



Member not only of the Political, hut alfo 
of a Mufical Cluh in the next Street ; — 
I proteft, fays he, if this Explanation is 

right, which I think it is, That the 

whole makes a very fine Symbol. You 

have always fome Mufical Inftrument or 
other in your Head, I think, fays the Al- 
derman. Mufical Inftrument ! replies 

the Parfon, in Aftonifhment, — Mr Alder- 
man, I mean an Allegory ; and I think the 
greedy Difpofition of Trim and his Wife, 
in ripping the Great Watch-Coat to Pieces, 
in order to convert it into a Petticoat for 
the one, and a Jerkin for the other, is one 
of the moft beautiful of the Kind I ever 
met with ; and will fhew all the World 
what have been the true Views and Inten- 
tions of the Houfes of Bourbon and Au- 
Jirta in this abominable Coalition, — I 
might have called it Whoredom : — Nay, 
fays the Alderman, 'tis downright Adul- 
terydom, or nothing. 

This Hypothefis of the Prefident's ex- 
plain'd every Thing in the Romance ex- 
treamly well ; and, withall, was delivered 
with fo much Readinefs and Air of Cer- 
tainty, as begot an Opinion in two Thirds 
of the Club, that Ml Prefident was a6tu- 

ally 



[35] 

ally the Author of the Romance himfelf : 
But a Gentleman who fat on the oppoiite 
Side of the Table, who had come piping- 
hot from reading the Hiftory of King Wil- 
liam'^ and Queen Anne\ Wars, and who 
was thought, at the Bottom, to envy the 
Prelident the Honour both of the Romance 
and Explanation too, gave an entire new 
Turn to it all. He acquainted the Club, 
That Mf! Prefident was altogether wrong 
in every Suppofition he had made, except 
that one, where the Great Watch-Coat was 
faid by him to reprefent Europe, or at lead a 
great Part of it : — So far he acknowledged 
he was pretty right ; but that he had not 
gone far enough backwards into our Hif- 
tory to come at the Truth. He then ac- 
quainted them, that the dividing the Great 
Watch-Coat did, and could, allude to no- 
thing else in the World but the Partition- 
Treaty ; which, by the Bye, he told them, 
was the moft unhappy and fcandalous 
Tranfaction in all King William^ Life: It 
was that falfe Step, and that only, fays he, 
rifing from his Chair, and ftriking his Hand 
upon the Table with great Violence ; it was 
that falfe Step, fays he, knitting his Brows 

E 2 and 



[ 36 ] 

and throwing his Pipe down upon the 
Ground, that has laid the Foundation of all 
the Difturbances and Sorrows we feel and 
lament at this very Hour ; and as for Trim'% 
giving up the Breeches^ look ye, it is al- 
moft Word for Word copied from the 
French King and Dauphin's Renunciation 
of Spain and the W est- Indies ^ which all the 
World knew (as was the very Cafe of the 
Breeches) were renounced by them on pur- 
pofe to be reclaimed when Time fhould 
ferve. 

This Explanation had too much Inge- 
nuity in it to be altogether flighted ; and, 
in Truth, the worft Fault it had, feem'd to 
be the prodigious Heat of it ; which (as 
an Apothecary, who fat next the Fire, ob- 
ferv'd, in a very low Whifper to his next 
Neighbour) was fo much incorporated into 
every Particle of it, that it was impoffible, 
under fuch Fermentation, it ihould work 
its defired Effed:. 

This, however, no way intimidated a 
little valiant Gentleman, though he fat the 
very next Man, from giving an Opinion as 
diametrically oppofite as Eaji is from JVeJi, 

This 



[37] 

This Gentleman, who was by much the 
befl: Geographer in the whole Club, and, 
moreover, fecond Coulin to an Engineer, 
waspofitive the Breeches meant Gibraltar \ 
for, if you remember. Gentlemen, fays he, 
tho' poffibly you don't, the Ichnography 
and Plan of that Town and Fortrefs, it 
exad:ly refembles a Pair of Trunk-Hofe, 
the two Promontories forming the two 
Slops, &c. &c. — Now wc all know, con- 
tinued he, that King George the Firft made 
a Promife of that important Pafs to the 
King of Spain : — So that the whole Drift 
of the Romance, according to my Senfe of 
Things, is merely to vindicate the King 
and the Parliament in that Tranfadlion, 
which made fo much Noife in the World. 

A Wholefale Taylor, who from the 
Beginning had refolved not to fpeak at all 
in the Debate, — was at laft drawn into it, 
by fomething very unexpected in the laft 
Perfon's Argument. 

He told the Company, frankly, he did 
not underftand what Ichnography meant : 

But as for the Shape of a Pair of 

Breeches, as he had had the Advantage of 
cutting out fo many hundred Pairs in his 

Life- 



[38] 

Life-Time, he hoped he might be allowed 
to know as much of the Matter as another 
Man. 

Now, to my Mind, fays he, there is 
nothing in all the Terraqueous Globe (a 
Map of which, it feems, hung up in his 
Work-Shop) fo like a Pair of Breeches 
unmade up, as the Ifland of Sicily : — Nor 
is there any thing, if you go to that, quoth 
an honeft Shoe-maker, who had the Ho- 
nour to be a Member of the Club, fomuch 
like a Jack-Boot, to my Fancy, as the 
Kingdom of Italy. — What the Duce has 
either Italy or Sicily to do in the Affair? 
cries the Prefident, who by this Time, 
began to tremble for his Hypotheiis, — 
What have they to do ? — Why, anfwered 
the Partition-Treaty Gentleman, with 
great Spirit and Joy fparkling in his Eyes, — 
They have juft fo much. Sir, to do in the 
Debate as to overthrow your Suppofitions, 
and to eftablifh the Certainty of mine be- 
yond the Poffibility of a Doubt : For, fays 
he, (with an Air of Sovereign Triumph 
over the Prefident's Politicks) — By the 
Partition-Treatyy Sir, both Naples and 
Sicily were the very Kingdoms made to 

devolve 



[39] 

devolve upon the Dauphin ; — and Trim's 
greajing the Parfon's Boots, is a Devilifh 
Satyrical Stroke ; for it expofes the Cor- 
ruption and Bribery made Ufe of at that 
Juncture, in bringing over the feveral 
States and Princes of Italy to ufe their In- 
terefls at Rome, to ftop the Pope from gi- 
ving the Inveftitures of thofe Kingdoms to 
any Body elfe. — The Pope has not the In- 
veftiture of Sicily, cries another Gentle- 
man. — I care not, fays he, for that. 

Almoft every one apprehended the De- 
bate to be now ended, and that no one 
Member would venture any new Conjec- 
ture upon the Romance, after fo many clear 
and decifi ve Interpretations had been given. 

But, hold, Clofe to the Fire, and op- 

pofite to where the Apothecary fat, there 
fat alfo a Gentleman of the Law, who, from 
the Beginning to the End of the Hearing 
of this Caufe, feem'd no way fatiffied in 
his Confcience with any one Proceeding in 
it. This Gentleman had not yet opened 
his Mouth, but had waited patiently till 
they had all gone thro' their feveral Evi- 
dences on the other Side ; — referving him- 
felf, like an Expert Practitioner, for the 
laft Word in the Debate. When the 

Par- 



Partkion-Treaty-GGntlemzn had finifh'd 
what he had to fay, — He got up, — and, 
advancing towards the Table, told them. 
That the Error they had all gone upon 
thus far, in making out the feveral Fad:s 
in the Romance, — was in looking too high; 
which, with great Candor, he faid, was a 
very natural Thing, and very excufable 
withall, in fuch a Political Club as theirs : 
For Inftance, continues he, you have been 
fearching the Regijlers, and looking into 
the Deeds of Kings and Emperors, — as if 
Nobody had any Deeds to (hew or compare 

the Romance to but themfelves. This, 

continued the Attorney, is just as much 
out of the Way of good Prad:ice, as if I 
fhould carry a Thing flap-dafh into the 
Houfe of Lords, which was under forty 
Shillings, and might be decided in the next 
County-Court for fix Shillings and Eight- 
pence. — He then took the Romance in his 
Left Hand, and pointing with the Fore- 
Finger of his Right towards the fecond 
Page, he humbly begg*d Leave to obferve, 
(and, to do him Juftice, he did it in fome- 
what of zforenjic Air) That the Par/on, 
"John, and Sexton, fhewed inconteftably 
the Thing to be Tripartite \ now, if you 
will take Notice, Gentlemen, fays he, 

thefe 



[+■] 

thefe feveral Perfons, who are Parties to 
this Inftrument, are merely Ecclefiaftical ; 
that the Reading-Dejky Pulpit-Cloth, and 
Velvet Cii/hmiy are tripartite too; and are, 
by Intendment of Law, Goods and Chat- 
ties merely of an Ecclefiaftick Nature, be- 
longing and appertaining 'only unto them,' 
and to them only. — So that it appears very 
plain to me. That the Romance, neither 
directly nor indired:ly, goes upon Tempo- 
ral, but altogether upon Church- Matters. 
— And do not you think, fays he, foften- 
ing his Voice a little, and addreffing him- 
felf to the Parfon with a forced Smile, — 
Do not you think Docftor, fays he. That 
the Difpute in the Romance, between the 
Parfon of the Parifh and "John, about the 
Height of 'John'% Defk, is a very fine Pa- 
negyrick upon the Hu??iility of Church- 
Men ? — I think, fays the Parfon, it is 
much of the fame Finenefs with that which 
your Profeffion is complimented with, in 
the pimping, dirty, pettyfogging Charad:er 
of Trim, — which, in my Opinion, Sir, is 
juft fuch another Panegyrick upon the 
Honejiy oiAttornies. 

Nothing whets the Spirits like an In- 
fult : — Therefore the Parfon went on with 

F a 



[4^1 



a vifible Superiority and an uncommon 
Acutenefs. — As you are fo happy, Sir, 
continues he, in making Applications, — 
pray turn over a Page or two to the black 
Law-Letters in the Romance. — What do 
you think of them. Sir ? — Nay, — pray 
read the Grant of the Great Watch-Coat — 
and Trim's Renunciation of the 5r£'^rZ>^j', — 
Why, there is downright JleafC andlfleleafc 
for you, — 'tis the very Thing, Man ; — 
only with this fmall Difference, — and in 
which confifts the whole Strength of the 

Panegyric, That the Author of the 

Romance has conveyed and re-convey*d in 
about ten Lines, — what you, with the glo- 
rious Prolixity of the Law, could not have 
crowded into as many Skins of Parch- 
ment. 

The Apothecary, who had paid the At- 
torney, the fame Afternoon, a Demand of 
Three Pounds Six Shillings and Eight- 
Pence, for much fuch another Jobb, — 
was fo highly tickled with the Parfon's 
Repartee in that particular Point, that 
he rubb'd his Hands together moft fer- 
vently, — and laugh'd moft triumphantly 
thereupon. 

This 



[43] 

This could not efcape the Attorney's 
Notice, any more than the Caufe of it did 
efcape his Penetration. 

I think, Sir, fays he (dropping his Voice 
a Third) you might well have fpared this 
immoderate Mirth, fince you and your 
Profeffion have the leaft Reafon to tri- 
umph here of any of us. — I beg, quoth 
he, that you would refled: a Moment up- 
on the Cob- Web which Trim went fo far 
for, and brought back with an Air of fo 
much Importance in his Breeches Pocket, 
to lay upon the Parfon's cut Finger. — 
This faid Cob-Web, Sir, is a fine-fpun 
Satyre, upon the flimfy Nature of one 
Half of the Shop Medicines, with which 
you make a Property of the Sick, the Ig- 
norant, and the Unfufpediing. — And as 
for the Moral of the Clofe-Stool-Pan, Sir, 
*t is too plain, — Does not nine Parts in 
ten of the whole Practice, and of all you 
vend under its Colours, pafs into and con- 
center in that one nafty Utenfil } — And 
let me tell you. Sir, fays he, raifing his 
Voice, — had not your unfeafonable Mirth 
blinded you, you might have feen that 
Trim's carrying the Clofe-Stool-Pan upon 
his Head the whole Length of the Town, 

F 2 without 



[44] 

without blufhing, is a pointed Raillery, — 
and one of the iliarpeft Sarcafms, Sir, that 
ever was thrown out upon you ; — for it 
unveils the folemn Impudence of the whole 
Profeffion, who, I fee, are aihamed of no- 
thing which brings in Money. 

There were two Apothecaries in the 
Club, befides the Surgeon mentioned be- 
fore, with a chemift and an Undertaker, 
who all felt themfelves equally hurt and 
aggrieved by this difcourteous Retort : — 
And they were all five rifing up together 
from their Chairs, with full Intent of Heart, 
as it was thought, to return the Reproof Va- 
liant thereupon. — But the Prefident, fear- 
ing it would end in a general Engagement, 
he inftantly caird out, To Order; — and 
gave Notice, That if there was any Member 
in the Club, who had not yet fpoke, and 
yet did defire to fpeak upon the main Sub- 
ject of the Debate, — that he fhould im- 
mediately be heard. 

This was a happy Invitation for a ftam- 
mering Member, who, it feems, had but a 
weak Voice at the beft; and having often 
attempted to fpeak in the Debate, but to 

no 



[45] 

no Purpofe, had fat down in utter Defpair 
of an Opportunity. 

This Member, you muft know, had got 
a fad Crufh upon his Hip, in the late 
RleBion, which gave him intolerable An- 
guifli ; — fo that, in fhort, he could think 
of nothing elfe : — For which Caufe, and 
others, he was ftrongly of Opinion, That 
the whole Romance was a juft Gird at the 
late York Elediion ; and I think, fays he, 
that the Promife of the Breeches broke, 
may well and truly lignify Somebody's elfe 
Promife, which was broke, and occafion'd 
fo much Difturbance amongft us. 

Thus every Man turn'd the Story 

to what was fwimming uppermoft in his 
own Brain ; — fo that, before all was over, 
there were full as many Satyres fpun out 
of it, — and as great a Variety of Perfon- 
ages. Opinions, Tranfadiions, and Truths, 
found to lay hid under the dark Veil of its 
Allegory, as ever were difcovered in the 
thrice-renowned Hiftory of the A6ts of 
Gargantua and Pantagruel. 

At the Clofe of all, and juft before the 
Club was going to break up, — Ml" Prefi- 

dent 



[46] 



dent rofe from his Chair, and begg'd Leave 
to make the two following Motions, which 
were inftantly agreed to, without any 
Divifion. 

F/r/?, Gentlemen, fays he, as Trtm'^ 
Characfter in the Romance, of a fhuffling 
intriguing Fellow, — whoever it was drawn 
for, is, in Truth, as like the French King 
as it can ftare, I move. That the Ro- 
mance be forthwith printed: For, conti- 
nues he, if we can but once turn the 
Laugh againft him, and make him aiham'd 
of what he has done, it may be a great 
Means, with the BlefRng of God upon our 
Fleets and Armies, to fave the Liberties of 
Europe, 

In the fecond Place, I move. That 
Mr Attorney, our worthy Member, be 
deiired to take Minutes, upon the Spot, of 
every Conjed:ure which has been made 
upon the Romance y by the feveral Mem- 
bers who have fpoke ; which, I think, 
fays he, will anfwer two good Ends : 

lA It will eftablifli the Political Know- 
ledge of our Club for ever, and place it in 
a refpediable Light to all the World. 

In 



[4-7] 

In the next Place, it will furnifli what 
will be wanted; that is, a Key to the Ro- 
mance. In troth you might have faid a 

whole Bunch of Keys, quoth a White- 
fmith, who was the only Member in the 
Club who had not faid fomething in the 
Debate : But let me tell you, Mr. Preii- 
dent, fays he, That the Right Key, if it 
could but be found, would be worth the 
whole Bunch put together. 




To 



[49] 
To , Efq; 

of Y ORK. 

SIR, 

YOU write me Word that the Letter 
I wrote to you, and now ftiled Tie 
Political Ro?nance is printing ; and that, 
as it was drop'd by Careleffnefs, to make 
fome Amends, you will overlook the 
Printing of it yourfelf, and take Care to 
fee that it comes right into the World. 

I was juft going to return you Thanks, 
and to beg, withal, you would take Care 
That the Child be not laid at my Door. — 
But having, this Moment, perufed the 
Reply to the Dean of York'^ Anfwer, — it 
has made me alter my Mind in that re- 
fped: ; fo that, inftead of making you the 
Requeft I intended, I do here defire That 
the Child be filiated upon me, Laurence 
Sterne, Prebendary of York, &c. &c. And 
I do, accordingly, own it for my own true 
and lawful Offfpring. 

My Reafon for this is plain ; — for as, 
you fee, the Writer of that Reply, has ta- 
ken upon him to invade this incontejled 

G Right 



[50] 

Right of another Man's in a Thing of this 
Kind, it is high Time for every Man to 
look to his own — Since, upon the fame 
Grounds, and with half the Degree of An- 
ger, that he affirms the Production of that 
very Reverend Gentleman's to be the Child 
of many Fathers, fome one in his Spight 
(for I am not without my Friends of that 
Stamp) may run headlong into the other 
Extream, and fwear, That mine had no 
Father at all : — And therefore, to make 
ufe of Bay\ Plea in the Rehearfal, for 
Prince Pretty-Man ; I merely do it, as 
he fays, **for fear it fhould be faid to be 
" no Body's Child at all." 

I have only to add two Things : — Firft, 
That, at your Peril, you do not prefume 
to alter or tranfpofe one Word, nor redtify 
one falfe Spelling, nor fo much as add or 
diminifli one Comma or Tittle, in or to my 
Romafice : For if you do, — In cafe any 
of the Defcendents of Cur/ fhould think 
fit to invade my Copy-Right, and print it 
over again in my Teeth, I may not be able, 
in a Court of Juftice, to fwear ftridlly 
to my own Child, after you hadyi large 
a Share in the begetting it. 

In 



[5-] 

In the next Place, I do not approve of 
your quaint Conceit at the Foot of the 
Title Page of my Romance, — It would 
only fet People on fmiling a Page or two 
before I give them Leave ; — and befides, 
all Attempts either at Wit or Humour, 
in that Place, are a Foreftalling of what 
flender Entertainment of thofe Kinds are 
prepared within : Therefore I would have 
it ftand thus: 

r O R K: 

Printed in the Year 1759. 
[Price One Shilling,) 

I know you will tell me. That it is fet 
too high; and as a Proof, you will fay, 
That this laft Reply to the Dean's, Anfwer 
does confift of near as many Pages as mine; 
and yet is all fold for Six-pence. — But 
mine, my dear Friend, is quite a different 
Story : — It is a Web wrought out of my 
own Brain, of twice the Finenefs of this 
which he has fpun out of his ; and befides, 
I maintain it, it is of a more curious Pat- 
tern, and could not be afforded at the 
Price that his is fold at, by any ionejl 
Workman in Great- Britain, 

G 2 More- 



Moreover, Sir, you do not confider, 
That the Writer is interefted in his Story, 
and that it is his Bufinefs to fet it a-going 
at any Price : And indeed, from the Infor- 
mation of Perfons converfant in Paper and 
Print, I have very good Reafon to believe, 
if he ihould fell every Pamphlet of them, 
he would inevitably be a Great Lofer by it, 
This I believe verily, and am. 

Dear Sir, 

Tour obliged Friend 

Sutton on the Foreft, 

Jan. 20, 1759. and humble Servant ^ 

LAURENCE STERNE. 



ro 



[53] 
ro Dr. TO? HAM. 

SIR, 

THOUGH the Repfy to the Dean of 
Tork is not declared, in the Tit/e- 
Page, or elfewhere, to be wrote by you, 

— Yet I take that Point for granted ; and 
therefore beg Leave, in this public Man- 
ner, to write to you in Behalf of myfelf ; 
with Intent to fet you right in two Points 
where I ftand concerned in this Affair; and 
which I find you have mifapprehended, and 
confequently (as I hope) mifreprefented. 

The Firji is, in refpe6t of fome Words, 
made ufe of in the Inftrument, iigned by 
D^ Herring y M^ Berdmore and myfelf. 

— Namely, to the bejl of our Remembrance 
and Belief, which Words you have caught 
hold of, as implying fome Abatement of 
our Certainty as to the Fad:s therein at- 
tefted. Whether it was fo with the other 
two Gentlemen who iigned that Attefta- 
tion with me, it is not for me to fay ; they 
are able to anfwer for themfelves, and I de- 
iire to do fo for myfelf; and therefore I de- 
clare to you, and to all Mankind, " That 
"the Words in the firft Paragraph, to the 

^^hejl 



[54] 

^^ bejl of our Remembrance and Belief, im- 
plied no Doubt remaining upon my Mind, 
nor any Diftruft whatever of my Memo- 
ry, from the Diftance of Time ; — Nor, in 
fhort, was it my Intention to atteft the 
feveral Facets therein, as matters of Be- 
lief — But as Matters of as much Certain- 
ty as a Man was capable of having, or gi- 
ving Evidence to. In Confequence of this 
Explanation of myfelf, I do declare my- 
felf ready to atteft the fame Inftrument 
over again, ftriking out the words to the 
heft of our Remembrance and Beliefs which 
I fee, have raifed this Exception to it. 

Whether I was miftaken or no, I leave 
to better Judges ; but I under flood thofe 
Words were a very common Preamble to 
Atteflations of Things, to which we bore 
the clearefl Evidence : — However, DF 
Topham^ as you have claimed juft fuch 
another Indulgence yourfelf, in the Cafe of 
begging the Deans, Authority to fay, what, 
as you affirm, you had fufficient Autho- 
rity to fay without, as a modefl and Gen- 
tleman-like Way of Affirmation ; — I wifh 
you had fpared either the one or the other 
of your Remarks upon thefe two Paflages: 
— Veniam petimus, demufque vicijji?n. 

There 



There is another Obfervation relating to 
this Inftrument, which I perceive has 
efcaped your Notice; which I take the 
Liberty to point out to you, namely, That 
the Words, To the beji of our Remembrance 
and Belief if they imply any Abatement 
of Certainty, feem only confined to that 
Paragraph, and to what is immediately at- 
tefted after them in it : — For in the fecond 
Paragraph, wherein the main Points are 
minutely attefted, and upon which the 
w^hole Difpute, and main Charge againft 
the Dean, turns, it is introduced thus : 

" JVe do particularly remember. That as 
" foon as Dinner was over, ^c '' 

In the fecond Place you affirm, " That 
" it is not faid, That Mf Sterne could 
" affirm he had heard you charge the 
" Dean with a Promife, in its own Na- 
" ture fo very extraordinary, as of the 
" Commifi^aryfhip of the Dean and Chap- 

" ter!" To this I anfwer, that my 

true Intent in fubfcribing that very In- 
ftrument, and I fuppofe of others, was to 
atteft this very Thing ; and I have juft now 
read that Part of the Inftrument over; 
and cannot, for my Life, affirm it either 
more diredtly or exprefly, than in the 

Words 



[56] 

Words as they there ftand ; — therefore 
pleafe to let me tranfcribe them. 

" But being preff'd by M^ Sterne 

" with an undeniable Proof, That he, 
" (D^ Topham) did propagate the faid 
** Story, (viz: of a Promife from the Dean 
" to Dr Topham of the Dean and Chap- 
" ter's Commijfaryjhip) — D^ Topham did 
" at laft acknowledge it ; adding, as his 
" Reafon or Excufe for fo doing. That he 
" apprehended (or Words to that Effedl) 
" he had a Promife under the Dean's own 
" Handy of the Dean and Chapter's Com- 
" mijfaryjhip" 

This I have attefted, and what Weight 
the Sand:ion of an Oath will add to it, I 
am willing and ready to give. 

As for M^ Ricard's feeble Atteftation, 
brought to fhake the Credit of this firm 
and folemn one, I have nothing to fay to it, 
as it is only an Atteftation of M^ Ricard's 
Conjedlures upon the Subjedt. — But this I 
can fay. That I had the Honour to be at 
the Deanery with the learned Counfel, 
when M^ Ricard underwent that mojt 
formidable Examination you fpeak of; — 

and 



[57] 

and I folemnly affirm, That he then faid, 
He knew nothing at all about the Matter, 
one Way or the other; and the Reafons 
he gave for his utter Ignorance, were, firft, 
That he was then fo full of Concern, at 
the Difference which arofe between two 
Gentlemen, both his Friends, that he did 
not attend to the Subjed: Matter of it, — 
and of which he declared again he knew 
nothing at all. And fecondly. If he had 
underftood it then, the Diftance would 
have put it out of his Head by this Time. 

He has fince fcower'd his Memory, I 
ween ; for now he fays. That he appre- 
hended the Difpute regarded fomething in 
the Dean's Gift, as he could not naturally 
fuppofe, &c. *Tis certain, at the Deanery, 
he had naturally no Suppofitions in his 
Head about this Affair ; fo that I wifh this 
may not prove one of the After-Thoughts 
you fpeak of, and not fo much a natural 
as an artificial Suppofition of my good 
Friend's. 

As for the formidable Enquiry you re- 
prefent him as undergoing, — let me intreat 
you to give me Credit in what I fay upon 
it, — namely, — That it was as much the 

H Re- 



[S8 1 



Reverfe to every Idea that ever v^as 
couch'd under that Word, as Words can 
reprefent it to you. As for the learned 
Counfel and myfelf, v^ho were in the 
Room all the Time, I do not remember 
that w^e, either of us, fpoke ten Words. 
The Deanvi^as the only one that afk'd Mr. 
Ricard what he remembered about the 
Affair of the Seffions Dinner ; which he 
did in the moft Gentleman-like and candid 
Manner, — and with an Air of as much 
Calmnefs and feeming Indifference, as if 
he had been queftioning him about the 
News in the laft Brujfels Gazette. 

What Mr. Ricard faw to terrify him fo 
fadly, I cannot apprehend, unlefs the 
Dean's Gothic Book-Cafe, — which I own 
has an odd Appearance to a Stranger ; 
fo that if he came terrified in his Mind 
there, and with a Refolution not to plead, 
he might naturally fuppofe it to be a great 
Engine brought there on purpofe to exer- 
cife the Peine fort et dure upon him. — 
But to be ferious ; if Mr. Ricard told you, 
That this Enquiry was mojl formidable. 
He was much to blame ; — and if you have 
faid it, without his exprefs Information, 
then You are much to blame. 

This 



[59] 

This is all, I think, in your Reply, which 
concerns me to anfwer : — As for the many 
coarfe and unchriftian Inlinuationsfcatter'd 
throughout your Reply, — as it is my Duty 
to beg God to forgive you, fo I do from 
my Heart: Believe me, Dr Topham, they 
hurt yourfelf more than the Perfon they 
are aimed at ; and when th^ firji Tranf- 
port of Rage is a little over, they will 
grieve you more too. 

prima eji hcec Ultio. 

But thefe I hold to be no anfwerable Part 
of a Controverfy ; — and for the little that 
remains unanfwered in yours, — I believe I 
could, in another half Hour, fet it right 
in the Eyes of the World. — But this is 
not my Bufmefs. — And if it is thought 
worth the while, which I hope it never 
will, I know no one more able to do it 
than the very Reverend and Worthy Gen- 
tleman whom you have fo unhandfomely 
infulted upon that Score. 

As for the fuppofed Compilers, whom 
you have been fo wrath and fo unmerciful 
againft, I '11 be anfwerable for it, as they 
are Creatures of your own Fancy, they 
will bear you no Malice. However, I 

H 2 think 



[6o] 



think the more poiitively any Charge is 
made, let it be againft whom it will, the 
better it fhould be fupported ; and there- 
fore I fhould be forry, for your own Ho- 
nour, if you have not fome better Grounds 
for all you have thrown out about them, 
than the mere Heat of your Imagination 
or Anger. To tell you truly, your Suppo- 
litions on this Head oft put me in Mind of 
Trirrf^ twelve Men in Buckram, which his 
difordered Fancy reprefented as laying in 
Ambufh in yohn the Clerk's Houfe, and 
letting drive at him all together. I am, 
SIR 

Tour moji obedient 

Sutton on the Foreft ] 

Jan. 20, 1759. ) And moJi humble Servant, 

LAWRENCE STERNE. 

P. S. I beg Pardon for clapping this upon 
the Back of the Romance, — which is done 
out of no Difrefped: to you. — But the Ve- 
hicle flood ready at the Door, — and as I 
was to pay the whole Fare, and there was 
Room enough behind it, — it was the 
cheapefl and readieft Conveyance I could 
think of. 

FINIS, 




One hundred and twenty-five copies printed 
for The Club of Odd Volumes, Boston^ 
in the month of October^ I9I4« 

BRUCE ROGERS. 



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